


Learning To Respect The Man First (and the Weapon Second)

by Telaryn



Category: Leverage
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Gen, Relationship Issues, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-29 08:33:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17200142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telaryn/pseuds/Telaryn
Summary: It was a moment - barely noticeable - but for Nate it changed everything about his relationship with Eliot.  Can he continue to work with the 'human equivalent of a nuclear bomb' relying only on his self-control to gain the trust of the man?





	Learning To Respect The Man First (and the Weapon Second)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [page_runner](https://archiveofourown.org/users/page_runner/gifts).



> It was the scene in canon that changed my view of the Nate/Eliot relationship forever; the moment where Nate reaches out to stop Eliot from charging the Italian's men, and not only does he not turn to look at Eliot, his eyes never shift away from the threat in front of them, not even for a split second.
> 
> He simply reaches out to stop Eliot, and not only is Eliot there, he STOPS.
> 
> At any rate, once again I hope you enjoy this dive into the messy, complicated details of Nate and Eliot's messy, complicated dynamic.

_He’d never seen Eliot move._

Playing the moment over in his mind, the closest Nate could get to making sense of what had happened was the vague awareness that he’d reacted to _something_ in that moment when the sea of guns had come up to cover them. He couldn’t pin down whether it was a shift in the air currents between him and Eliot, or something more esoteric – all he could say for certain was at precisely the right moment he’d reached out and caught Eliot by the wrist, willing him to stop.

And Eliot had.

Things were understandably chaotic in the days that followed, as the team adjusted to their new reality. Hardison had been working overtime gathering information on Damien Moreau – of all of them, only Eliot seemed to have more than a passing familiarity with the man and his activities. Which made sense, Nate was forced to acknowledge – the man’s criminal interests were extensive, but seemed to be confined almost exclusively to money and guns.

Hardly something an art thief – or even an ex-insurance investigator – would have cause to know much about.

In the midst of it all, Nate gradually realized he was waiting for the inevitable confrontation, where Eliot called him out on what he’d done, questioned his means of doing it, and issued the expected litany of vague threats to make sure he didn’t do it again. When a week passed, with the hitter seemingly taking the moment in stride, Nate was forced to look at things in a different light.

 _You’re the boss._ It was the only explanation that made sense. As the boss, Nate had final say over actions taken by the team for the team. Eliot hadn’t been ignoring that code all this time, he’d been _waiting_ \- waiting for Nate to enforce it.

And Nate finally had.

It cast his relationship to the hitter in a new, and not altogether comfortable, light. Nate knew he was going to have to talk to Eliot about it, but first he took his concerns to Sophie. Avoiding the fact that he’d been looking at the situation from a decidedly mob-influenced angle, he opened the conversation by asking her if she thought Eliot had ever been hypnotized.

“Definitely,” she replied, once he told her why he was asking the question in the first place. “He’s got a couple of post-hypnotic triggers, hadn’t you noticed? The back of the wrist seems to be a way to ground him in an emergency; if you’d tapped it sharply with one finger, you likely would have gotten an even stronger reaction.”

“What else?” he asked, intrigued now.

Sophie considered the question for a moment, then said, “I don’t know if it could be considered post-hypnotic, but he’s extremely susceptible to neurolinguistic programming – I think with the right set of circumstances he could be controlled verbally for short periods of time. The hair pull…” She caught herself then, biting her lower lip as she saw his eyebrows raise. “Oh don’t start – I noticed it when Parker started pulled his hair a few months ago to get a rise out of him. He’s most aware of that one, for obvious reasons. He probably still uses it with the right partner; it’s almost entirely sexual.”

Her voice had gradually slipped back into an easy conversational tone, which helped Nate get his own thoughts back on target and _away_ from considering how Eliot Spencer might enjoy his sex.

After thanking Sophie for her insight, he asked that she figure out a time when Parker and Hardison could be distracted from the offices. He needed to have a conversation – okay, probably several conversations – with his hitter, and he needed to make sure they wouldn’t be interrupted.  
***************************************  
“Have you ever been hypnotized?”

 _Ah, fuck._ Eliot actually felt himself pull up short, hearing Nate ask the question. Mindful that he had his hands full of pastry dough, he exhaled sharply, brought himself quickly back under control, and resumed his work. “You’re not getting any farther in my head than you already are, Nate.”

The mastermind was sitting at the kitchen counter, drinking what Eliot had already figured out was a doctored cup of coffee, but when he glanced up Eliot was reassured to see that wherever this topic was getting ready to head it was a direction Nate was _not_ comfortable going. “Not what I asked,” he said as their eyes met.

“You know the answer, or you wouldn’t have asked the question,” Eliot countered, spreading the dough as far as he could before picking up his rolling pin. “What I’m wondering now is, why are we having this particular conversation in the first place?”

He’d intended to stay focused on his pie, but seconds into Nate’s description of the day the Italian had invaded their offices, Eliot’s movements stilled.

 _”You lose that temper of yours one more time and it’s not going to be a question of promoting you – it’s going to be a question of where they bury you.”_ His oldest trigger was also the first one he’d ever agreed to. Lindsey had set that one; it was entirely verbal and had gotten Eliot through Basic and all the way into the Rangers. _”Whenever someone addresses you by rank or name in a sharp tone of voice, you’ll feel the rage draining out of you. You’ll immediately assess your circumstances and react to them in a calm, appropriate manner.”_

There had been other sessions over the years, other triggers. Some – like the hair pull – he’d allowed to stay, while others he’d gotten rid of at the first available moment. Damien – damn him – had been fascinated by the whole mess, seeing it both as a game and a means of exerting a higher level of control over his greatest weapon.

“I can remove them if you want.” With a jolt, Eliot realized his right hand was clenched into a fist, and Nate’s expression had shifted from conflicted to openly _concerned_. “I promise you, Eliot – I never intended to activate anything when I grabbed for you. I wasn’t thinking at all; I just knew I had to stop you from charging into all those guns.”

It took Eliot a moment to realize Nate had said _them_ , when by rights he should have only known about the one he’d accidentally triggered. “Who told you about the others?” he asked, narrowing his eyes at the older man.

He wasn’t surprised to hear Sophie was the culprit there, although Eliot knew he could have gone the rest of his life without the grifter being wise to how strong his hair pull was.

Using the task in front of him to buy himself a few precious moments, Eliot finished working the dough, set it in place, and got the pie in the oven. Nate seemed to be all right with his need for time to process; he didn’t say another word until Eliot had poured himself a cup of coffee and joined Nate at the counter.

“I appreciate that you talked to me first,” he said, knowing that it was important to acknowledge all the other routes Nate could have taken had chosen not to, “but I’m just not comfortable having you in my head like that.” He exhaled softly. “I’m sure Sophie’s already told you that I’m apparently a good candidate for it, but Nate – it’s going to be a major problem between us if I find out you’ve taken advantage of that.”

“What I will agree to,” he said, when Nate didn’t immediately argue with him, “is allowing you access to my verbal trigger. It doesn’t require any physical contact and leaves me better capable of assessing a potentially dangerous situation.”  
*****************************************  
 _I deserve that,_ Nate thought, even though hearing the truth stated so boldly bothered him on a level he wasn’t prepared to accept. “What about the wrist?” he asked, not wanting to have Eliot think he was trying to push an advantage, but knowing that under the right set of circumstances it was almost inevitable he would reach for it again.

The hitter was quiet for a long moment, sipping his coffee. He wasn’t visibly angry or on edge, which Nate saw as a good sign. “Show me you have enough self-control not to use it as your primary means of bringing me to heel, and I won’t hold it against you if you have to trigger it.”

“Absolutely,” Nate said, holding out his coffee cup in invitation. After a moment, Eliot tapped the mug with his own.

“My turn for some answers,” he said, after a few more minutes of relatively companionable silence. When Nate nodded, he asked, “You’ve talked before about using whatever you have at hand to get the most out of us – what made this different? I mean, I didn’t even realize what you’d done until you brought it up just now.”

It was the crux of the issue, and Nate knew it deserved a proper, thoughtful response. “I’m not ready for what you see in me,” he said, finally, knowing he was bungling it a little, but still hoping Eliot would understand. “I know you’re getting frustrated waiting for me to make my peace with where this is headed, but what you see is something I never imagined for myself.”

He blew out another sharp breath, shaking his head. “You’re different than the others. You talk about not trusting me, and yet I feel like you’re offering me unrestricted access to the human equivalent of a nuclear weapon at the same time. I could tell you I have no idea what to do with that, but…”

“But you’d be lying,” Eliot finished for him.

Nate nodded. “I see everything we could do together, and I don’t even trust _myself_ with that kind of power. Eliot, what you and I seem to be moving towards is bigger than any momentary tactical advantage I might gain by using you in the way you seem to have expected I would.”

“Nate…” Eliot began, but Nate cut him off with another shake of his head.

“I don’t think either of us is ready to settle this all now,” he said. “I want you to know that I’ve heard what you said, and I will do my damndest to respect those boundaries.”

Eliot was quiet for a long moment. Finally he said, “I’ve been used as a weapon my entire adult life by people who didn’t give a damn about the person I was. I agreed to it – I’m not saying I didn’t – but I’m done with all that. If you can respect the man first, I think you’ll find respecting the weapon comes much easier to you.”


End file.
